March Newsies, March
by Vinnie Monfredo
Summary: What happens when you mix high school, marching band, a bunch of estrogen-filled girls, and the newsies? Why hilarity, of course! Rating will rise with later chapters!
1. uno

** March Newsies, March Characters**

** A/N:** I do not own Newsies. Disney owns them and every other character that you remember from the movie. I do not own the NMLers—They belong to their respective owners. I, however, own this plot and story along with Vinnie, Jaybee, Ian, Veronica, Chelsea, and Lindsay.

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**CC:** If you would like to apply for this story, please email me at I need many characters because this is a story that takes place in high school, where many people are introduced. Please label the email **CC MARCH NEWSIES**.

Answer these questions:

**Name:**

**Nickname:**

**Looks:**

**Personality:**

**Instrument:**

**Other:  
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**Please do not tell me that your character wants to go out with Spot, Jack, or Race or any other newsies. This is my story and they will date whomever I want them to date or remain single. If you have a problem with this, than please do not apply. Also, please note that anyone who replies with their application to anywhere besides that address stated above, their application will not be read.**

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**NEWSIES  
Jack**-- DRUMLINE (snare)  
**Racetrack**--DRUMLINE (quads)  
**Spot**--DRUMLINE (quads)  
**David**--FIELD COMMANDER  
**Itey**-- SAXOPHONE MARCHER  
**Snitch**-- CLARINET MARCHER  
**Bumlets**-- PIT  
**Jake**-- SOUSAPHONE MARCHER  
**Dutchy**-- PIT  
**Mush**-- TRUMPET MARCHER   
**Skittery**--DRUMLINE (snare)  
**Les**-- BANDHELPER  
**Boots**-- BANDHELPER  
**Snipeshooter**-- BANDHELPER  
**Specs**-- FIELD COMMANDER  
**Kid** **Blink**--DRUMLINE (snare)  
**Crutchy**—PIT

**NMLers****  
Elise** (Marbles)—BASE DRUM  
**Brandie****Foster** (Milkshake)—COLOR GUARD  
**Laura****Martinez** (Braids)—COLOR GUARD  
**Fiona****Madison** **Wallace** (Hen)—DRUMLINE (snare) / CLARINET  
**Abby****Henderson** (Twister)—FLUTE  
**Marilyn****Mancina** (Twister)—DRUMLINE (quads/base)  
**Erica Neumann** (Detroit)—PIT  
**Myya Conlon**—FLUTE/CLARINET  
**Lute McDonaghey** (Swinger)—PICCOLO  
**Catherine Harrison** (Cathy/Cat)—FLUTE  
**Carson Lacy** (Ghost)—DRUMLINE (snare)  
**Becky Connors** (Tag)—COLOR GUARD  
**Tiera** (Lavender)—CLARINET  
**Nora Lewis** (Tuba Lady)—SOUSAPHONE/TUBA  
**April** (Touchdown)—COLOR GUARD  
**Angela** (Copperfoil)—DRUMLINE & COLORGUARD  
**Analeise O'Bannon** (Trolley)—SAXOPHONE  
**Rachella Rosa Zuccaro** (Blackjack)—COLOR GUARD  
**Hannah** (Spunk)—DRUMLINE (snare)  
**Maura O'Leary** (Fantasy)—SAXOPHONE  
**Arielle VanderNeut** (Air)—CLARINET  
**Delphine Elaine Wallace** (Spitball)—OBOE/TENOR SAX  
**Mercedes Perkins** (Taffee)—COLOR GUARD  
**Carrie Lawson** (Tiny)—COLOR GUARD  
**Taylor Marie Brown** (Tails)—FLUTE  
**Lida Rose Keller**—DRUMLINE (base drum)

**Authors Characters  
Vinnie Monfredo Bellachini** (Half Pint)—COLOR GUARD/CLARINET  
**Jaybee Spencer**—COLOR GUARD CAPTAIN  
**Ian**—NON BAND MEMBER hot Goth boy Veronica's brother  
**Veronica**—Ian's sister NON BAND popular Goth girl  
**Chelsea Dugan**—Gossip Queen

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**Chapter One  
Band Rehearsal**

"Mr. Johnson is sooo hot…" moaned Sarah. "His hair is so touchably soft… what a hunk!" She pulled up blades of grass and threw them in the air. The rest of us made a face—Mr. Johnson was not hot. He wasn't even cute.

I wrinkled my nose, "Sarah, you have poor taste." I laughed and rolled my eyes. The sky was beautiful today—no clouds and such a beautiful blue—azure, I think. It reminded me of Ian's eyes. "Now Ian, he's hot."

Brandie Foster chortled. "Ian?" She asked with a face, "He's a goth! _And_ he has a lip ring. I bet if you kissed him it would cut your tongue." We all laughed at Brandie's expression; she could be so naïve sometimes! We all loved her for it though, sometimes with, a naïve friend, you would have some good laughs. "But Mr. Johnson looks like he's deformed. Vinnie's right, he is kind of... weird looking." She smiled at me and I nodded.

"See? Brandie knows what's up." I grinned. I looked up at the sky again; it was such a warm summer. The warm sunshine beat down on my back, but not hard enough to make me sweat. "Don't you agree though," I began slowly, "Ian Richardson is one hot mofo…" I sighed, even if he dressed in all black and wore eyeliner; it looked so amazing on him!

"How on earth she could like a guy in touch with his feminine side…" I gave Rachella a look. She was jealous; I knew she was. "He wears _eyeliner_!" she stressed; twirling a lock of auburn hair around her finger, "Even if he is sexy…" she trailed off.

I laughed. "Yea… I have him in a couple classes. He sits at the back and never answers questions. He looks dumb but he's really smart. I'll grant him that." We all laughed.

Rachella looked at her watch. "Geez," she grumbled, "we only have fifteen minutes before practice starts." We rolled our eyes. Whenever practice started, we practiced hard. Sometimes, our two-minute breaks were even taken away from us by our devil band captain. However, on the days that she was feeling generous, which were extremely rare, we got a ten-minute break, which to us felt like fucking heaven.

The four of us sighed. We were all in the flag corps at Brenau High School. Pronounced Bren-o, stressing the beginning syllable, the school's football team and band was the best in the state. The football team has gone to the championships seven times and has won four times. The band is always getting an invitation to go somewhere and play. For example, about four or five years ago, our band went to England and we played for the queen. Fast forward five years and we got another invitation to go again for next year.

I rolled my eyes. "Don't you hate having band camp in the hot summer? I wish we could go inside someplace and just stay there."

Sarah laughed. After thinking a moment she said, "Yeah, then I could see more of Mr. Johnson."

We all rolled our eyes and prayed for Sarah's state of mind.

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Please acknowledge that this chapter is only a fillerish sort of chapter. Not everyone was introduced but I just wanted to show you guys my writing style and just a little taste of how this is going to be going. 

**Remember, if you want to be in this fic, all applications need to be emailed to me asap.**

**evansbandshortie yahoo . com **


	2. dos

**A/N: **I don't own Newsies. I own Vinnie and Jaybee. The other characters belong to their respective owners. If there are people that you don't recognize at all, chances are that they are living breathing people that go to my school and that I know.

**New Characters:**

**Carly Thomas aka Red  
Band manager**

**Lela Adame aka Chaos  
Trombone, carinet, flute**

**Nell Berry aka Swindle  
Drumline (base)**

**Anna Carrigy aka Coin  
Color guard**

**Amy Baker aka Chime  
Mellophone**

**Aurora O'Brien aka Shooter  
Tuba**

**Celeste Mulaine aka Tribble, Trib  
Oboe, saxophone**

**Maureen Gretchen Baxter aka MGB  
Trombone**

**Colleen DuPront aka Zodiac  
French Horn**

**Brian Fox aka Jinx  
Trumpet**

**Skylar Salvato aka Sunshine  
Trumpet**

**There are tons more… If you emailed me, you are most likely in it but I am an _awful _organizer. So if you do not see your name here… Please email me!**

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**Chapter Two  
Cruel Punishments **

"Okay, let's take this from the top! One more… and begin!" Jaybee called out, for the fifth time. She thought that she could whip us into shape by making us exercise like the football team! Yes, lap-running, push-ups, pull ups, sprints, you name it. She justified it by saying that it improved strength, coordination, and technique. It just improved how tired we were of doing the same things over and over.

"Okay, good," surveyed Jaybee after we finished our fifty old fashioned jumping jacks. "Now, let's try some more splints—"

Knowing that I shouldn't, I interrupted, "Jaybee, c'mon!" I looked around at the other girls that were panting with thirst, "We're all dead tired! Can't we get a break! We've done this like fifty times since eight this mornin'! What time is it now? Like, twelve-thirty?"

She looked at me and sighed. Jaybee glanced down and the ground and kicked at the asphalt, "Yeah, Vinnie's right. Everyone take a break—"

"Thank God!" I muttered, turning to go to the big water kettle that was waiting for us. I grinned at Brandie, who was mouthing me thanks.

"Everyone except Vinnie."

I stopped in my tracks. "What?!" I whirled around. "Jaybee, I'm thirsty! Can't I go get some water and have you lecture me after practice is over?" I stood with my hands on my hips. You may not talk to your captain this way, but me and Jaybee Spencer had grown up with each other since the time of diapers. I knew everything that ticked her off, especially if it was me being disrespectful in front of twenty or so people.

She looked at me with her eyebrows raised, "Not with that attitude, you can't," she said, matching my posture. "Look Vinnie," she began sighing, "I really don't like you disrespecting me in front of all the other members of the corps. It's very rude."

I just stared at her blue eyes. Jaybee tries to act all bad, but deep underneath she just can't be mean. It's not her nature to be mean. We are like opposites; I get mad about the smallest things, while it takes her forever to get mad.

"Okay fine, Jaybee, I'm sorry," I said, trying to rush the apology so that I could go take a break, "I won't disrespect you anymore. I know it's rude, but I can't help it. I'm sorry and I'll try not to do it again." I was sincerely sorry, but I guess she didn't think it sincere enough, so she said,

"Well… I accept your apology. But," she began to speak slowly, biting the inside of her lip, "I still have to punish you."

I stared, surprised, at her. You see, let me explain how this works. Our flag corps or color guard, whatever you want to call it, usually has about twenty to twenty five people. First year girls aren't allowed to try for captain. I was a junior, and had been on the team for three years. Jaybee was a senior and had been on the corps for four years and captain for three. Actually, about two and a half because during my sophomore year, there was a girl named Kaylin, who was elected captain. She wasn't a very good captain because she was very disorganized and she never really liked to be in charge anyways. So one day, she just quit without letting anyone know. There was no captain for about two weeks because no one knew what to do about it. Well, one day, Jaybee just organized everything and began acting as our captain. She became our captain unofficially. Jaybee's done such a good job of it, that she's been captain ever since. This is her last year, though.

But still.

That girl has never given detention to anyone, never wrote them up for being late, or turned us in for having inappropriate dress for practice or camp. Now, she decided to start with me.

I couldn't believe it. "Jaybee…" I began, incredulously, "What are you talkin' about? You're gonna give me detention?"

She smiled. It was a bit smug actually, and I didn't like it at all.

"Not detention. I'm just going to make you do your routine in front of the drumline." I just stared at her, this wasn't a punishment! I was one of the best, not meaning to be vain or anything, but that was only because I had a sister who was a majorette for her college and I liked to practice with her.

"By yourself."

Okay. You probably know by this point that I really don't give a damn what other people think of me. I really don't, I mean, who are they to judge you if they don't know you, right? But this… This was bad.

Jaybee knew that I have problem with doing a routine in front of a group all by myself. She knew it. Especially the drumline! It's full with adolescent little boys with raging hormones. Every time they see us practicing or in our uniforms, they whistle and catcall. It's embarrassing, really.

Jaybee smiled and picked up her flag, "And this time, you _can't_ get out of it." She held it in a cradle and began walking to the water kettle.

I rolled my eyes and began thinking of ways to get out of it. Last time I _had _to do something for Jaybee, I went over to the band captain and began volunteering help with things. Jaybee was pretty mad when she found out but she got over it fast.

"Oh, yeah," she turned around with a grin, "You _can't_ get out of this one."

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"She _what_?!" 

"Yeah. My reaction exactly." I crossed my arms and scowled. It just wasn't fair. Okay, okay… Maybe I deserved it. But still… by myself?

Brandie, or Milkshake as we call her because of her love for the drink, comforted me, "Don't worry, it can't be that bad."

I laughed. Brandie was only a sophomore so she didn't know. "Well, seriously," she continued, defensively, "if you mess up, then you mess up. Just because you made a mistake doesn't mean anything except you made a mistake." She patted my back, "And don't worry, you're too good to mess up—mess up too horribly, anyways."

I gave her a look. Her words helped though. She was right; it was only a stupid routine. If I messed up, who cared?

I smiled at her to show my thanks. My nervousness and anger went away… until Tracy Lynn came up and talked to me.

I sneered at her after her greeting, "Oh, hey there, Vin._ (I raised my eyebrows.)_  
I heard about what Jaybee's making you do and I just wanted to wish you the best of luck. Because you know, how nervous you get with all those eyes just watching you. Oh and by the way… There's this new hot guy on drumline," she rambled, crossing her arms, "I'm not sure what his name is but I've seen him… But whatever you do, make sure not to scare him off with your clumsy flagging skills. Okay? If we ever go out, and I predict that we _will_, I don't need him thinking that just because _you _can't flag, it doesn't mean other people can't. Toodles, hun," And with that, she turned around and stalked off.

Brandie looked at me with her eyebrows raised and a curious look on her face.

Now, I'm not much for talking about anyone behind their back, but I really can not stand Tracy Lynn. She thinks she's perfect and lemme tell ya', she ain't. Not at all. Not even close.

But hey, what can I say? She's family.

Second cousin to be exact.

Unfortunately to be exact.

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For anyone who has a character names Tracy Lynn, I apologize. This person isn't your character but was designed by me after a neighbor that lives down the road from me. I'll develop her more into the story, so I hope it makes you laugh at her antics. Or at least feel sorry for her family. 

Anyways... you know where the magical button is!


	3. tres

Thanks for everyone who reviewed and/or applied! Muchas gracias to y'all for helping me with this story!

**New Characters:**

**Saiorse Callan aka Irish**

**Drumline- Snare **

Thanks for the hint

**Stacy aka West Side **

French Horn 

No more at the moment, but trust me, if you try to send in your character for the story, you'll get in. Also, if you do not like the way that your character is portrayed, please let me know and I will change it.

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Chapter Three

Yes.

I am related to the high and mighty, snobby, haughty, arrogant, conceited, and vain Tracy Lynn Connors.

Not that I want to be. That girl is just a pain.

Not everyone loathes her as much as I do. But there are some people that like her. I really don't see how… But hey, "_to each his own."_

Brandie shook her head, "Don't worry about her, Vin," she took a swig of water, "she's just jealous. Trust me, you _will not_ mess up." Brandie picked up my flag, and handed it to me.

Now, if you're in color guard, you'll know that six foot flags are a pain. Especially if you aren't over five feet yet. If you haven't ever used a six foot flag, you are incredibly lucky and God bless you. Certain moves and tosses are okay, but if it comes time to do a "windmill" or a "back hand switch", its hell. I have to stand on my tiptoes for the move to work and for me not to hit the ground. Don't laugh- it's true. Although everyone else on color guard thinks its hilariously funny to watch my feet, its really not.

I took my flag reluctantly and began to practice before the drumline came over. I saw Jaybee out of the corner of my eyes. I knew that she wanted me to do well, but I was still annoyed with her.

There are about twenty-five or so people on color guard. There are about five freshmen, seven sophomores, seven juniors, and six seniors. During band camp, on the last day, the whole band is divided into three groups—the drumline, the color guard, and the rest of the band. Then, the groups show off what they've learned during the two horrendous weeks at camp.

Jaybee had taught us two routines: the first one was a short forty-second piece for showin' off. The second was the beginnin' part to our first football half-time show.

I wondered which one I would have to present. One was too short and the other was unfinished. As soon as I began practicin' the shorter one, I heard a patter of running feet behind me. I disregarded the sound, the way that the band teachers taught on the second day of camp.

"Vinnie! Hey! C'mere a minute!" I turned at the voice; it was Angela. Angela and I had known each other for a long time but because she was a senior and I was a junior, we had never had any classes together or found time to have a conversation that consisted of more than a "hi"; "how are you doing?"; a "fine, you?" and "let's talk later."

She was a very friendly person; cracking jokes, laughing about anything and everything with her friends, and standing up for people who she didn't know. I thought that she was a very pretty individual- both inside and out. She was, by choice, a strawberry-blonde, but by birth, she had been a fair-haired child. Her nickname was Copperfoil. Don't ask… It was one of those moments with aluminum foil and it being 2 or 3 AM on a bus from a football game going back home.

"What's wrong?" I asked her, alarmed at her livid, red face. "Tracy say anything to you? Because if she did I would advise you to-"

Angela doesn't get mad. She might get a tad annoyed but not furious. Now, she was furious.

Her blue eyes were hard. "That Tracy Lynn," she began shoving a hand through her hair, forgetting that it was up in a ponytail in her anger.

I shook my head, rolling my eyes, "Don't worry about her. Whatever she said to you-"

"No!" she stressed, "Tracy Lynn… she's insanely jealous of you, Vinnie. I heard her talking to Sloan saying that she was going to make you mess up while you were performing for the group." She shook her head, "I don't know how what is wrong with that girl! She's so..." Copperfoil paused, searching for the right word to call Tracy.

"Seriously," I said, patting her on the shoulder, "if it's anyone that should be upset, it's me. And don't worry, I will _not_ mess up, okay? Don't worry."

She gave me a comforting smile. "Make sure you don't," she pleaded, "someone needs to show that girl that she isn't the best. Not in the least." She smiled and wished me good luck. I shook my head, Tracy Lynn wasn't jealous. It was just her way; she enjoyed being the way she was.

I began practicing, going faster and faster, with my flag whirling and spinning with me. The tosses I made, I caught perfect: the verticals, behind my back, the 45. I lost track of time and the people around me. I swayed with my spins and arched my arm to follow my flag. I could feel nervous bubbles floating out of my system. _I can do this, _I though, _I won't mess up. Even with an audience, I can still be perfect. _I began the field routine. The first couple of minutes, Jaybee had already taught us. I counted off, doing the right TC drill following with a windmill and a forty-five degree toss. The George was easily followed by a speed-spin toss. I ended with a peggy-sue and that was followed by a flat toss. I caught the toss with my left hand, brought it down to my side, and lifted my right hand in a graceful presentation. I brought my hand from my side out in front of me, and then up over my head, bending back slightly while keeping my feet in a 5th position in a ballet pose. I took a breath. I was done.

The claps and shouts of laughter shook me out of my reverie. I looked to the side and I noticed the whole of the corps was watching me with admiration in their eyes. Well, most of them- I noticed happily that Tracy was quietly sulking behind the large group.

Jaybee began walking towards me. "Great practice," she smiled broadly, "Vinnie, that was really good." She patted my shoulder. "You could tell that you really enjoyed flagging."

I nodded with my eyebrows raised; I was still upset about having to present in front of the drumline. Seriously. The _drumline_. Now, the girls there aren't too bad, they are tons of fun, but the guys? They all act as if they've been deprived of food when it comes to girls. They act vile: hooting, whistling, stamping their feet, and slapping the… bootie?

Anyways, the three drum majors are the worst: Francis Kelly, known as Jack, short for Jack-Ass; Spencer Conlon, knows as Spot, and if I'm especially annoyed at him I call him the 'Human Dot'. He _knows_ why. Then there's Anthony Higgins, or Racetrack. Racetrack is his nickname because one game night when our band was traveling to an away game, Race really had to use the restroom. Well, the bus ended up in traffic and the only thing available was a two mile hike up to the nearest Racetrac gas station. Needless to say, Racetrack never made it to Racetrac. He barely made it out the _window. _ But hey, that boy has the _best _aim. And you _KNOW_ what I'm talking about.

"Thanks," I said, reluctantly. I still was a bit miffed with her. Yes, I know it was my fault but I really can't control my mouth at all. Just like when Anthony and me bet that tomatoes were vegetables or fruit. I won because I said that they were vegetables but he's dirty- he wouldn't give me my money because he said that they were really both and I'd only said one. Who cares? He lost- he said they were fruit. They are really vegetable-fruits.

Jaybee rolled her eyes and sighed. "Look Vin, you don't have to do you're routine in front of the dumline, okay? I only said that to make you respect me and I know that you have a problem with performing in public by yourself." She grabbed my arm, "But next time you pull something like that, trust me, you _won't _get out of it."

She let me go and gave me a smile, as if she wanted to take the sting away. I reluctantly smiled back and once her back was turned, I stalked off to the pavilion. I walked to Brandie, who of course was slurping from her ever-present milkshake, and sat down next to her.

"Hey," she greeted happily, green eyes twinkling, "you did really good!" She patted my shoulder and slurped her mango banana milkshake. I smiled and said quietly, "I know you were hoping that, uh, what's-his-name came over here…" I paused and looked at her face. She had forgotten about the milkshake and opened her emerald green eyes wide.

I laughed. Even though she was a freshman and this was her first year on the corps, she was a good friend. I could talk to her about anything and she would take me seriously. However, it was also fun to mess with her because she had a "not-so-secret" crush on drummer extraordinaire Anthony Higgins. But, hey! Who didn't? I had had a crush on him in the seventh grade when he transferred from another school out of state. He showed up for the first day of school with a marching band jacket. You know how we knew it was a marching band jacket? Because it had the logo on the sleeve and school colors and everything. We knew, from then on, that he was fearless.

He tried out for drumline in the eighth grade and when the seniors there teased him for being short for his age, he shot back with an incredible drumline audition that beat out most seniors for a spot at the quads, which is usually reserved for juniors and seniors. Quads are drums that have four different sized worn in the harness. We knew, once again, that he feared nothing.

Now that he's in junior class with me, I see more and more of him everyday. Especially after school during band practices. He's a riot, teamed up with Jack and the Human Dot. Usually, their jokes are sexist, racist, dirty, and disgusting. For example, have you heard the Three Women Go Camping one? It goes like this:

"_One day three women went camping - a blonde, a brunette and a redhead. The blonde suddenly had to go to the bathroom. She went into the woods with her toilet paper and did her business._

_While she was gone, the brunette and the redhead decided to play a joke on her. They skinned a rabbit and snuck up on the blonde, put the guts behind her and ran back to the campsite. Three minutes later they heard a scream._

_Then they waited another half an hour and the blonde came back, sweating. She said, "I had to poop so hard I pooped my guts out. But thanks to God and these two fingers, I stuffed them back in."_

The first time I heard that, it took me a while to get it. Everyone else was shouting and groaning. That was a dirty, dirty joke. The whole drumline was laughing, but they are all guys so of course they would laugh! Well, plus or minus a few girls on drumline.

Anyways, Brandie popped me on my shoulder. "Ow!" I protested, rubbing the spot, "What was that for?"

She shrugged and smirked. I hit her back and she retaliated by grabbing my water bottle and throwing it at my head. I gasped and stood up. Catching my water bottle in midair, I used it as an attack weapon, striking her wherever I could. Brandie shrieked and put her milkshake on the table for safekeeping. Grabbing my arms, she tried to slow down on the assault. We were both laughing and screaming, not paying attention to anything around us. All of a sudden—

"Oh, shit!" I screamed as soon as I felt the ice-cold water cascade down from my head to my back, wetting everything in the way. Brandie let go of my water bottle and me because she was doused with water too. I dropped the water bottle and wiped at my face, trying to get rid of the coldness. I heard laughing and I looked at Brandie.

She was hopping from foot to foot as she not only got water dumped on her, but also a buttload of ice. "Damn damn damn!" she cursed, tugging at the back of her shirt.

In spite of my coldness, I couldn't help but laugh. Hearing callous remarks behind me, I turned around. Gosh darn it, and who is it? Three guesses whom.

Drumline? Ding ding ding. You've won the mystery prize!

I am so sorry that this is short but dont worry! Drumlines coming in! That means more characters, more of perverted!Race and many more jokes! Lol, if you want me to update faster, you know what to do!


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